


Sunkissed

by afterandalasia



Category: Pocahontas (1995)
Genre: Canon Universe, Community: disney_kink, Cunnilingus, F/F, Grinding, Lesbian Sex, Nature, Outdoor Sex, Playful Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 10:38:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6654679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/pseuds/afterandalasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nakoma knows, in the end, that she would not change Pocahontas for the world. No matter how much trouble she gets them both into.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunkissed

**Author's Note:**

> From the [anon prompt](http://disney-kink.livejournal.com/4400.html?thread=3936816) at the Disney Kink Meme.

“Pocahontas?” Nakoma was _sure_ that she had come this way. She peered around another tree, but could not see her wilful friend. “Pocahontas! We’re supposed to be heading back to the village!”

The rustle of leaves from behind her was enough to make her sigh; she turned to find Pocahontas hanging from the branches of the tree by her knees, her skirt tucked between her thighs to avoid completely exposing herself. She reached out and brushed Nakoma’s cheek. “Caught you.”

“Oh, sure, you’re the one that’s doing the catching,” said Nakoma. She put her hands on her hips and tried to look stern, but it was hard when Pocahontas looked at her so playfully, eyes alight and lips smiling around a secret.

Pocahontas wrapped her fingers beneath the edge of Nakoma’s top and used it to tug her closer, close enough to kiss. It was a strange feeling, kissing upside down, the twitch of lips familiar but new, the tongue on hers at a different angle. But Nakoma welcomed it all the same, never can but welcome it, reaching to run a hand across Pocahontas’s scalp and through the black water-sleek fall of her hair.

Then Pocahontas squeezed her breast.

“Pocahontas!” Nakoma yelped, but Pocahontas was already laughing, twisting in the air and dropping to the ground as lithe as any wild cat, running her hands up Nakoma’s thighs and straight beneath her skirt as she did so.

Nakoma spluttered indignantly but, still laughing, Pocahontas kissed her on the mouth.

“You are terrible,” Nakoma mumbled.

“You make me want to be terrible,” replied Pocahontas.

Then Pocahontas was pushing her up against the smooth bark of the tree, pressing their bodies together, and _this_ was why Nakoma never could say no to her. Pocahontas scattered kisses across her face, as fleeting as leaffall, as her hands cupped Nakoma’s hips and bunched up her skirt, thumbs just catching the crease of her thigh and brushing against the lower curls of her hair.

Wrapping her arms around Pocahontas’s neck, Nakoma drew her close and managed to catch her mouth just for a moment. Every touch felt like catching, with Pocahontas, every brush of her fingers or moment catching her eyes like a gift. Moments like this, with her fingers brushing like sunlight over Nakoma’s hips and laughter rippling on her lips, were too glorious to ever refuse.

Pocahontas dropped to her knee and tugged Nakoma downwards, towards the ground, and Nakoma stumbled and tried to keep her feet.

“You’ll get leaves in your hair,” she protested.

For reply, Pocahontas stuck out her tongue, then a wicked smile lit her face as she seemed to realise where she was kneeling. Nakoma saw the look of mischief, and tried half-heartedly to protest as Pocahontas pushed up her skirt right around her waist, letting the mild summer air brush against her thighs. The sunlight was dappled on her legs and feet, the air soft with spring, and it was hard to really want to go back to the village with Pocahontas’s tongue dragging across her thigh, teasing, coming close to her cunt but never quite reaching before darting away again.

“You know,” said Nakoma, trying to sound stern when her knees were shaking, “if you’re going to play like that then we might as well not do this at all.”

She folded her arms across her chest and looked into the distance, and gasped but was not at all shocked when Pocahontas immediately licked right along her slit, all the way from her entrance to her clit, in one swift move.

“Pocahontas!”

“Oh, please,” said Pocahontas, that secret in her smile making her shine again as she knelt between Nakoma’s thighs. She slid her hand down to scratch behind Nakoma’s knee, and laughed at the way that Nakoma clutched the tree to stay standing. “You know what I’m like. Can you even blame me any more?”

After this long, it wasn’t as if Nakoma could really claim that she didn’t know what she was getting herself in for. She tried to keep a straight face, but it soon broke out as laughter, and she launched herself down to tackle Pocahontas into the grass, rolling them both over and down the shallow slope.

Even that did not make Pocahontas seem surprised, however; Pocahontas laughed and rolled with her, ending up on top and straddling one of Nakoma’s thighs, her own dress pushed up so that their skin pressed together. She swept her hair back in one elegant gesture

Nakoma spat hair out of her mouth and shook her head. “You are unbelievable,” she said.

For a moment, Pocahontas’s mischief softened, and she leant in to press gentler kisses against Nakoma’s jaw. “I thought you knew to believe in me by now,” she breathed.

More tenderly, Nakoma stroked Pocahontas’s cheek, drawing her up so that they were eye to eye. “You know what I mean.”

Pocahontas responded with a feather-light kiss to the end of her nose, and a smirk. Then she leant in to kiss Nakoma’s mouth again, her tongue exploring, coaxing, and shifted her hips so that her thigh pressed to Nakoma’s cunt as surely as she rode Nakoma’s hip. She always seemed to make movements like that seem natural, when Nakoma would have to pause and think and rearrange them both and probably have to adjust them, but now Pocahontas simply rolled her hips like the motion of a river and pleasure swelled where her thigh ground perfectly against Nakoma’s sex.

Nakoma wished that she could find clear words, but all that she could manage was a soft moan and a gasp. She wound one hand into Pocahontas’s hair, and kissed her back, desperate and heated and in rhythm with their hips; her other hand cupped Pocahontas’s ass to draw them more tightly together.

The sound of Pocahontas’s breath was as light as the wind and as lyrical as any song, and the wet heat of her cunt on Nakoma’s thigh would have been exquisite by itself even without the firm muscle of her thigh against Nakoma’s own sex, the tilt that would bring the bone of Pocahontas’s hip pressing down close to pain but so deep into pleasure that it sent desire spiking in her.

One hand groped for Nakoma’s, peeled it from her scalp, and their fingers intertwined as Pocahontas rolled against her, each movement of her hips a heady rush and a boost to the pounding of Nakoma’s heart. Nakoma held her hand tightly and slid her other fingers round, between them, positioning her hand so that each roll of Pocahontas’s hips bought her down upon fingers as well as thigh.

As Nakoma’s hand touched her, Pocahontas let out a soft cry, muted where lips met lips. Nakoma loved these moments, undoing Pocahontas made all the sweeter against her usual composure, and she nipped at Pocahontas’s full lips and sucked gently at her tongue, coaxing with her fingertips and feeling the tension build in Pocahontas, the arch of her back and the sweep of her hair in the wind, the trembling note of a moan in her throat as Nakoma rocked back into her and let her fingers do their work.

“Nakoma,” Pocahontas gasped, and the way that the name cracked on her tongue made Nakoma shiver, made heat bloom and twist between her thighs. “Nakoma, _please_ …”

Nakoma squeezed her hand, and hitched her thigh, and she felt Pocahontas break into orgasm like a wave on the shore, felt the clench of muscles against her thigh, felt the crashing jerks of Pocahontas’s hips and heard her soft, sweet cry as she threw back her head. With the ripples still running through her, she lowered her lips to Nakoma’s again, and Nakoma slowed her kiss, lingering, feeling the sighs that burred on Pocahontas’s lips.

“And you say _I_ am terrible,” Pocahontas breathed.

Laughter broke from Nakoma’s lips. She ran damp fingers over Pocahontas’s thigh and nuzzled at the base of her ear, revelling in the way that Pocahontas’s body melted and flexed into her, the play of the muscles beneath her skin.

“I’ve learned a lot from you,” said Nakoma.

Pocahontas chuckled, warm and rich, then drew back and unlinked her hand from Nakoma’s She knelt over her, hair a tousled black curtain, and smiled with flushed lips.

“I want to taste you,” she said, her gaze never wavering. If anything, it seemed to become more intense, boring straight into Nakoma and making her feel hot and shivery all over. It was as if Pocahontas could reach into her, could run hands over her heart and send desire rushing through her very blood. It did not help that words such as that were ones that Nakoma would only dare to whisper into Pocahontas’s ear; when Pocahontas spoke them, she made them sound anything but vulgar. “You always taste so beautiful.”

Nakoma blushed, quite separately from the desire swelling in her, as Pocahontas slid down her body, hands warm and firm as they kneaded at her thighs. This time, there was no teasing, and no sooner had Pocahontas’s head dipped down than Nakoma felt the touch of her tongue, firm and confident against her clit.

She held back her moans as Pocahontas explored her all over again, each time as if it were the first. Her surety could have been blamed on familiarity, but Nakoma knew that Pocahontas was always like this, had been from the first time they had tumbled into each other’s bodies, that her tongue and fingers had always been this sure. She knew people, breathed into them.

It was not exactly something to complain about.

Pocahontas’s fingers gently spread her open, teasing and stroking, counterpoints to her tongue as Nakoma felt pleasure build higher in her and arched her back, hips rolling. She felt, as much as heard, Pocahontas laugh. The feeling made her shudder, catch her breath, and she felt her body start to coil tighter, breath coming shorter and thighs and stomach growing taut as Pocahontas pressed fingers just to her entrance and sucked hard at her clit, until with a rush Nakoma came.

Her breath caught before she cried out, pleasure pounding in her head and hot in her core, and the sway of Pocahontas’s tongue meant that barely had the first rush gone through her then a second and a third followed in its wake, flushing over her skin and sparkling behind her eyelids as she writhed beneath the touch.

She fell still, panting, as her toes curled and her muscles unwound and the waves receded once again. When Nakoma opened her eyes, the world seemed more brightly coloured than ever around her, alight and alive, and she pushed up onto her elbows to see Pocahontas lying between her legs with a fond, playful smile and her lips shining.

“You’re terrible,” said Nakoma breathlessly, as Pocahontas rubbed circles on her thigh.

“That’s not a complaint,” Pocahontas replied.

This time, it was Nakoma who stuck out her tongue, and Pocahontas laughed, knees bent to dangle her feet in the air and her skirt still rucked up so that the sun kissed the back of her thighs and the curves of her ass. Nakoma reached down, and plucked a stray leaf from Pocahontas’s hair.

“No,” she admitted. “It isn’t.”

Pocahontas pushed up to her hands and knees, and crawled so that their faces were level again. Giggling, Nakoma reached up and wiped Pocahontas’s mouth with her thumb, doing her best to actually clear the skin and not just smear her own arousal there. “And now we’ll need to bathe. It’s only going to make us later, you know.”

“Food will still be there to be gathered when we return,” said Pocahontas. When she kissed Nakoma again, she tasted mostly like herself. “This moment would not. And how could I resist you in a moment like this?”

Rolling her eyes, Nakoma made a vague derisive sound. She had long since grown used to not understanding everything about Pocahontas, and that being part of the wild woman’s beauty, but of all things Nakoma did not understand this, how _Pocahontas_ of all people could have fallen in love with _her_. The unexceptional one. But somehow, that was what had happened, and Pocahontas straddled Nakoma’s lap to kiss her again without even waiting for an answer, as if her question were so obvious as to be rhetorical.

Nakoma kissed her back, then shrieked as Pocahontas rolled them again, further down the shallow slope to crash into a chokeberry bush.

“Why – Pocahontas!”

Pocahontas laughed, not a shred of regret in her voice as she sat up, tossing her head back. There were leaves in her hair again, and Nakoma smacked her on the thigh.

“One of these days, you will roll us into the river.”

“And we’d have to strip to dry our clothes,” said Pocahontas, grinning still. She stood up, grabbing Nakoma’s hand to pull her along as well. “Come on. Time to bathe.”

“Po- _Pocahontas_!” Nakoma could not do much more than yelp as she was dragged off, but it was through laughter, and she knew that in the end she would not change Pocahontas for all the world.


End file.
